It's odd how year after year, when things seem on the surface to go smoothly, that beneath it all there is a lingering sense of gloom that one can never seem to escape. I've always prided myself in being an upbeat cheerful person and take pains to put on a happy face to others but I think perhaps it has been a protective shell that I must have developed rather early in life. Maybe I wanted to simply hide my really really private thoughts from the world. I'm good about sharing all sorts of things with others: in fact sometimes a confidant may feel overwhelmed with my insights. Nevertheless, I've found that I still go to a great deal of trouble to make sure that some things are never touched on. Ergo: depression.
The question is, then: How do I let go of my own depression if I cannot even identify the reasons to myself? I've fought with the dilemna for years now and am no closer to the answer than when I first began. I've had a wonderful life, great family and childhood background, loving parents, an understanding sweet husband and children and grandchildren who love me, even pets who've doted on me as long as I fed them regularly. What more can I do?
Most people who know me have no idea that I've been on anti-drepressant medications for years or have gotten a glimpse of the devils that haunt me at times. I keep waiting and waiting for the relief to come along that I feel I've earned by this time but it eludes me as a shadow that dances before the sun.
Maybe it is the highs and lows that a person experiences that calls out the creative processes. I can only hope.
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